Not surprisingly, my creative side really blossoms when it comes to food.  Here's Shepherd's Pie topped with ghost mashed potatoes. Cute, no?

Even though Sophie didn't get to participate in yesterday's festivities, she did get to partake in the birthday treats.

Today is my birthday.  31 years old, and I feel every minute of it.  I should know by now that my birthdays usually end up a craptacular shitstorm of disappointment, beginning with my 16th birthday in which Wesley broke up with me, and ending with last year's disastrous stay in Hicktown, USA (aka Helen, Georgia).  The past year has been transformational for me.  I've established new boundaries personally and professionally and reevaluated my priorities.  My children have always been my top priority, but I am now making an effort to always put them first in evey aspect of my life. This includes distancing myself from formerly close family and friends that require more emotional support than I am able to give at this point in my life.  It also means career suicide at a company that demands your commitment 24/7 and has no understanding of family values. 

This year, I decided to avoid the birthday disappointment by ignoring its arrival and planning an outing with the kids instead.  We decided to go to Carowinds to celebrate as well as bribe the kids into not making us take them to the state fair.  We had our fill of slack-jawed yokels at Helen last year.  Today started much like last year- Wesley and I arguing over silly things and rain pouring down, threatening to ruin our day.  We spent the first hour or so in between downpours.  The kids were good sports, for sure.

The good thing is the rain kept a lot of people away, so the kids were able to ride whatever they wanted as many times as they wanted.  It stopped around lunch time, and we dried out for the most part.  The crowds increased a little, but not enough to really impact out wait times for rides.  Victoria got to meet Dora, they posed with the Scooby gang, and Vic only had a few moments of Diva behavior.     

A good time was had by all, despite my bum knee, that is now the size of a cantaloupe.  It's not even 8:30, and I'm the only one awake in the house.  The amazing thing is for once I'm not bothered that there was no big celebration, no surprise party, no attention lavished on me.  I had a great day because they had a great day, and that's all that matters.  I guess you are a different person in your 30s than you are in your 20s, and it's a welcome change.  Although I can't help but feel like our day was missing a little something...

I entered the kids in the Gap photo contest.  If they win, they get a trip to NYC to do a photo shoot for Gap Kids.  Make sure to vote for each of them daily to be the fan favorite! family.go.com/gapcastingcall/entries/MSEIGLER1024/

    I literally had a shitty day, as in it began and ended with poop.  This morning while getting Sophie changed for school, I opened her diaper only to reveal a massive pile of what looked like mashed avocados.  While wiping her, I inadvertantly knocked the diaper on the floor next to my foot. I picked it up, finished getting her dressed, and rushed out the door.

About 2 hours later, Wesley called to say that Victoria needed 2 crowns and possibly a root canal, or two.  What 4-year-old needs dental work of this magnitude?!  That poor child inherited my jacked up teeth.  If that's the case, a skin graft for her gumline, tooth extractions, and braces are sure to follow.

After receiving that disheartening news, I went about the rest of my day as normal.  I met with a few employees about retirement, talked with my co-workers, and dug through my mound of paperwork that gets bigger by the day.  At about 4:30 as my day was winding down, I went to the supply cabinet.  I happened to look down and noticed something on my pants.  It was green and crusty.  Turns out when that diaper dropped on the floor, it must have brushed up against my pants, leaving a good 2 inch glob of poo on my pant leg.  I'd walked around with it on there all day and was none the wiser.  Such is the life of a full-time working mother, I guess. 

For my upcoming birthday, my kids decided to get me the best present ever...The Snuggie.  It just proves how well they know me, or that they are suckered in by infomercials as much as I am.  This all came about because I am constantly draped in blankets, and have been since I was smaller than Victoria. It's something I've passed on to the kids, much to Wesley's dismay.  The house is littered with blankets 24/7, even when it's 95 degrees outside.  God forbid Wesley washes the blankets, and the 3 of us are left to fight over a clean one.  I have no qualms about leaving a 4yo out in the cold.

Whenever I ask Victoria a question or to do something, she gives me this look.  It's a blank stare with her mouth gaping open.  It drives me insane, because she'll stare at me like that for several minutes, not breaking her gaze.  I want to beat her in the face, but I end up cracking up every time.  That's the essence of our entire relationship.

At Trevor and Victoria's school, they have an award called the Dynamic Dolphin.  Every 2 weeks a kid in each class is awarded this when they're helpful, respectful, and courteous.  I will be the first to admit that Trevor has his faults, but overall he is one of the most respectful, thoughtful children you'll ever meet, especially to be a boy.  He says "ma'am" and "sir", does whatever he's told, usually with little griping, and shares everything with everyone.  That's why I can't understand why he NEVER was named a Dynamic Dolphin in 3 years at school.  I know the little brats who attend his school.  I've almost been run over by several of them when dropping off and picking up Trev and Vic.  Finally his current teacher rewarded his good behavior with the award, and as a bonus, I get to have lunch with him one day during the next 2 weeks.  Extra bonus- he's not too old to be embarrassed by my presence at his school.

In the past few days, Sophie has begun blowing past milestones.  She is trying to pull up on everything standing still, crawling, albeit only a few inches at a time, and eating regular food. We have to constantly make sure the floor is spotless because, true to her Capricorn goat nature, she puts everything in her mouth- paper, food, my jewelry, etc- and she now has the capability to get to those desired objects.  Also, this week, she decided to forego the baby food.  It's bland, boring, tasteless, and like a true Weaver, she'll have none of that.  So she has indulged in chicken nuggets, mac and cheese, muffins, mozzarella sticks, fries, and bbq.  Nothing but the best for my baby.

I don't like to tout my own heroics, but yesterday I, all by my lonesome, took 3 kids to the doctor while suffering from a debilitating sinus infection, and there were no casualties.  The girls were each due for shots, and Trevor was along for the ride since school was closed for the holiday.  I was hoping he'd be a bit more help than he was, but sitting there like a bump on a log playing his DS was better than the alternatives of him chasing Vic around the doctor's office or proposing a million hypotetical situations to which I'm supposed to respond as if there were a possibility of them actually occurring, which is our normal daily routine.

I have to say, the kids must have known how terrible I felt because despite the torrential down pour, which would have normally sent them into cabin fever frenzy, they kept calm and quiet, and entertained themselves with tv and toys.  This could have been due to the fact that the least little infraction was met with a stern growl, so for their own sake, they remained out of my way and got along famously.  Even the baby must have known.  She took a 3 hour nap in the morning, so I was able to relax for a bit on one of my precious few days off from work.

We rushed to the doctor at 2:25 for our 2:30 appointment only to sit in the waiting room for 45 minutes once we got there.  Vic had her finger pricked, and Sophie, her toe.  Eyes and ears were checked, and everything looked pretty good.  Then, it was time for shots.  I had prepared Victoria for shots by explaining that they would feel like bee stings.  Well, I didn't realize Nurse Sadistica would be on duty that day, and I felt the mother bear in me rise up as she jabbed Victoria twice in the thigh and Sophie once.  I was too sick at that moment to wage a war, but the bruises they're sporting today make me regret not turning the needle on her.

Aside from the shots, I found out that Vic needs her eyes checked for further evaluation, which would explain her need to sit inside the television. Also, she's finally slowing down according to the growth charts, now at a mere 30% for height and weight.  Given every woman's stature in my family, this was expected.  Sophie Grace was right on average for height and weight, which shocked me, given her chunky butt and Size 18 month clothing.  She's 19.3 lbs, and she feels every bit of it when I'm toting her around.  2 hours, 3 band-aids, and a few tears later, we were finally able to leave to enjoy the rest of our day off.